Not Yet
July 19th, 2013
Tired so as to remember almost nothing. A face, a short duration of a face in a dim light, if that. Then cold. Keep on running from cold. Sleep standing. Always sleep standing, can’t let them see you down. No! Won’t see me down. Won’t see me tell you anything. None of my youth, my fighting, none of what I know, of what I become. Can’t beat me, can’t beat me down. When cold over, sun upcoming and wake, when it dares, maybe.
No yet.
Comments are closed.